The next morning, Jowan was sitting alone in the dining hall. He was tearing pieces off a bread roll, and staring off into the middle distance. He was clearly upset. But that was none of Niall's business. Although that, naturally, did not mean that Niall could stop himself from striding over there and sitting down next to him.
He knew it was a bad idea. Whatever was going on between Uldred and his apprentice, Niall knew he should stay out of it. Instead he said,
"You're supposed to eat that, not just rip it to shreds."
Jowan looked down at the pile of breadcrumbs he'd accumulated and mumbled an apology. Only then did it occur to Niall that he and Jowan had never actually had a conversation. In fact, their entire relationship before this moment had consisted of Niall's accidental eavesdropping.
"I don't mean to bother you," he tried again, "You just – I noticed you looked upset."
"Huh, you would. But I've had more than enough of your observations."
"Sorry – I don't follow you?"
Jowan didn't bother to explain himself – instead he walked away leaving Niall to wonder what he'd done to offend him.
-o0o-
"Hello stranger." said a familiar, melodic voice.
Niall looked up from his desk to see his old friend smiling down at him.
"Petra!" he stood immediately and pulled her into a tight hug. Her red hair still had the same light scent of sandalwood. "Maker, when did you get back?"
"Two days ago, but I couldn't find you – where in the world were you hiding yesterday?"
Niall was grinning from ear to ear.
"How long are you back for?"
"For good." those two words made his heart swell. She'd been gone so long, he'd almost forgotten how much he missed her.
"They say the Wilds are going to be overrun by darkspawn any day now. Irving ordered Ines' back to the tower. And thank the Maker – almost two years in a tent, searching for rare plants – no. I was not cut out to be a botanist."
They found a table and Niall brought over two black coffees. Petra wrapped her hands around the mug and slowly brought it to her lips, savouring the smell.
"Mmm." she sighed, "You have no idea how much I've missed this. I won't tell you what concoctions Ines' tried to pass off as tea. I swear one time she just boiled sylvan root in water and gave me that to drink." She wrinkled her nose in disgust and Niall felt lighter than he had in months.
Niall's attempt at an early morning start on his research fell completely by the wayside as he and Petra spent the next few hours catching up. They still had the same easy back-and-forth they'd developed back in their apprentice days.
She told him all about Ines' eccentricities. One story had him doubled over laughing at the mental image of Ines falling into a stream trying to chase a fennec away with a stick. He told her he'd been promoted to Enchanter. It turned out, so had she. Her new assignment was taking care of the youngest mages in the tower. Niall couldn't think of anything worse than spending all day every day with five years olds who hadn't mastered how not to throw out fireballs accidentally. But Petra was excited about it. He also told her about Torrin.
"You're tutor!" She swotted him on the shoulder, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised – you do have a thing for beardy, older men."
"I do not."
"Oh really," she quirked an eyebrow, "Have you forgotten about that Enchanter from the White Spire who gave that guest lecture here a few years ago?"
He laughed. He had in fact forgotten all about that.
"Mmm, Enchanter Rhys – he did have a certain rugged appeal."
"Shame he had exactly zero interest in you." she teased.
"His loss."
And so they carried on. Teasing each other mercilessly in that way only old friends can do. Years ago, before their harrowings, before too much of life made both of them wiser – Niall had been so deeply in love with her. In another life - a mundane life, Niall thought - they would have been married, with a couple of children by now. But he didn't like to dwell on what wasn't possible. He was just happy to have his friend back again.
-o0o-
He was finally been wrenched from Petra's side when Uldred had caught him on his way back from lunch. The Senior Enchanter was laden with satchels and the bags under his eyes were a deep purple. He practically dragged Niall into a study room, insisting that they get to work immediately.
"Apologies for the short notice. Ordinarily, I wouldn't expect you to accommodate my schedule but I think my marching to Ostagar in two days' time rather justifies the urgency in this case."
Niall just nodded as he riffled through the notes they'd made the night before. They had the largest study room on the third floor booked for the rest of the day and Niall briefly wondered how Uldred had managed that if this session was so short notice. Uldred dropped his pile of satchels full of supplies in a heap in the corner.
"Should I find Torrin before we start?" Even though he and Niall had reconciled, he didn't think Torrin would be impressed if he wasn't told about this.
"He's teaching this afternoon." Uldred added casually, "Then I believe it's his choir practice after that."
"He doesn't usually teach at this time?"
"No – he's generously covering one of my introductory level classes." Uldred was distracted, only half-listening as he fussed about pulling jars of balms and salves from his satchel and lining them up parallel to the edge of the desk.
Niall hummed a tune to himself as he went about putting on some gauntlets which according to Uldred were 'twice as good as that useless cowl you tried last time.' Maybe if they finished this early enough he could go and find Petra again for a nightcap - just like old times.
"You're cheerful." Uldred made it sound like an accusation.
"I am – my friend's back from -,"
"Well take that chirpy energy and focus it on the task at hand, please. Drink this." Uldred shoved a vial into Niall's hand. He knocked back the florescent pink liquid and Uldred turned over an hourglass.
"Maker's tits – what was that."
"A diluted version of magebane."
"The poison?!" Niall gagged, trying to spit it out.
"It's only mild." Uldred said flatly. Niall just stared at him, not sure how to respond.
Uldred didn't seem to pay any attention to Niall's horrified expression. He pulled out a bundle of papers freshly bound in twine and started talking Niall through the work.
The longer Uldred spoke for the more stunned Niall became. The man must have been up all night working on this. There were pages and pages of equations. Theories written in a manic scrawl that at first glance looked like the scribblings of someone in the later stages of lyrium madness – except it wasn't madness. It looked - right.
In fact, the longer Niall looked the more sure he was that Uldred was on the cusp of revolutionising the field of Mental Resistance Magic after less than two days. Even drinking the magebane made sense once Uldred had explained it. The poison would diminish his mana but as the effects wore off there'd be a brief overshoot in natural mana production that would cause a boost.
Uldred looked at his hourglass, it's sands had almost run out. He walked across the room, drew the curtains and with a flick of his wrist, extinguished all the candles in the room.
"Take off your robes."
Surprise forced a sharp laugh out of Niall,
"Excuse me?"
Uldred pulled a set of green and purple robes from one of his bags.
"Put these on."
Niall paused awkwardly, not relishing the idea of stripping down in front of Uldred.
"Hurry up." Uldred barked, nodding his head towards the hourglass, "You need to cast almost immediately when that runs out in order to get the boost from the magebane. These robes were enchanted in Orzammar - with a Paragon dweomer rune. So, strip."
Niall obeyed.
The green robes were slightly too long in the sleeves and felt distinctly not-his. But he could tell by now that arguing with Uldred about anything would be futile today.
They stood squarely in front of each other, both of them with their eyes fixed on the hourglass. As the last grain of sand ran out, Uldred moved his staff around his head. But instead of casting Horror as they'd agreed – Uldred, knowing full well what happened last time, cast a Waking Nightmare spell over Niall.
A flash of panic. A vague outline of an armoured figure in the darkness then –
Nothing. The spell fizzled and evaporated into nothing.
"What do you think you're doing?!" Niall shocked himself with his volume as he yelled, "We agreed on Horror. Not -," the memory of when he tried that with Torrin sent a chill through him.
"Niall -," Uldred seemed calmer than he'd been all day, "It worked."
"Oh shit, it did, didn't it? It worked!"
Niall had to laugh. It worked. The implications of their breakthrough flashed though his mind. It was very exciting.
Uldred scribbled something in the margin of this notes. He picked up another vial of magebane, held it out to Niall, and readied his other hand on the hourglass.
"Again."
Niall knocked back the liquid without hesitation and the hourglass slammed back down on the desk.
And so it went on. Uldred hurling stronger and stronger spells and Niall resisting them all. They repeated it over and over, trying to optimise their combinations. Magebane, gauntlets, dweoner rune. Lyrium potion, gauntlets, Spirit Balm. Cowl, Hale rune, Spirit Balm. Again and again. Over and over.
Niall's mana should have depleted, except - it didn't. He should have been exhausted, except he'd never felt more energised. He started to be able to resist even the briefest flashes of unpleasant memories. Instead, he could block them with happy ones. The spell would hit and all he'd see was a flash of Petra's smile, of Leorah with her arms outstretched. By the time they finally ran out of lyrium – Niall felt like he was floating. Even Uldred was smiling.
"My boy," he rested his hands on Niall's shoulders, "This – you – are exactly whatI need. And perhaps, it's just in the nick of time."
Like almost everything Uldred said, Niall felt like he was missing something but right now he was too giddy to care.
-o0o-
It was already late when he got back to his room but it didn't even occur to Niall to try and sleep. Uldred might have hijacked it, but this was still his project. Once he wrote this up it would be a sensation. He'd be called to talk in front of the College of Enchanters. He could get that fussy, red-headed, linguist to translate it in Tevene. Maybe he'd get to visit the consulate in Tevinter. He took out his favourite quill and started frantically writing up their findings. Between Petra's return and his research breakthrough, he couldn't remember when he'd had a better day that this.
The momentum of his good mood energised him for another an hour or so before Niall succumbed to resting his head in on his desk, just for a second, and drifted off to sleep where he was sat.
-o0o-
The woods had a faint purple glimmer, an indigo haze that wrapped around the blackberry bushes and exposed them as an arcane creation from his own memory. He made a point to pluck a berry from the vine, careful to avoid the thorns. Squeezing his hand closed, he crushed the fruit in his palm. Nothing here was real. He let the dark juice seep out between the fingers of his clenched fist and drip onto his tunic. His mother would be angry that he'd stained his clothes. Blackberry stains were a nightmare to remove. Nothing here was real. Maybe he should soak his tunic in the stream before he went home for supper.
Except he couldn't see his home. His house was just over the rocks, he should be able to see it from here. He couldn't. All he could see was this patch of woods - the same cluster of trees and thorns and blackberry bushes repeating again and again in every direction. Was this all he could remember of the land he'd played in as a child?
The light disappeared across every repetition of the clearing he stood in, leaving only the one in which he stood. There was no horizon now - just the patch of dirt beneath his feet existed, encased in a void. He looked upwards. A patch of bright blue remained at the zenith of where he stood but beyond that even the sky itself had fallen out of existence.
Then a deep voice rang out - echoing through the emptiness.
"Niall the mage."
The voice knew him it seemed.
"From this place you came. This spec of nowhere to where you are now."
In a flash the world around him changed. He was back in the Tower, in Irving's office. In Irving's chair. Except it was his now. It was all his.
"Your mother always spoke of your potential. From the first moment you began to weave the magic of the fade, she knew you were destined for greater things. She was not wrong."
He remembered it was true – she had said those very words 'destined for greater things' as she handed him over to the templars.
Destined for greater things.
Destined for greatness.
"You are nothing now but the larval form of what you could be. I can show you true greatness. That which cloys at you from the inside, seeking permission to be set free. I can help you free that, Niall. You only have to let me in."
He felt warm, moist breath caress the back of his neck. Then, slowly, he felt the tip of a bony finger trailing upwards from the small of his back, tracing his spine as though his body were a lock being picked open.
He started to melt into the phantom touch - his mind pliant, just for a moment, until one resistant fragment of his consciousness broke free of the demon's thrall.
There came a frantic knocking against the First Enchanter's office door, followed by the sound of Niall's own voice screaming at him,
"Run."
-o0o-
He jolted awake, shaking violently. Sweat dripped down his face, sticking his hair to his forehead. He tried to stand but his legs gave out. He tried again. He had to leave this place, he couldn't stay there. He had to leave. He had to get out. His heart raced as he steadied himself against the desk. The moment his knees ceased threatening to buckle he bolted for the door.
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A/N I know this is chapter's early but I have added an extra chapter and this one was already written so, I guess, voilà.
I was nervous about writing a scene in the fade (I cut out at one point because I had no idea how to write it) so I hope this was okay.